How warm the rain this morning!
It is a morning to sing along with—
the rain a drum beat on the roof of my helmet
the whoosh of rubber through puddle a cymbal
I let all the car alarms, too, be bird song
and my grin swells with the wind and the clouds.
It is a day to breathe, like the wind, a bit deeper
to look at those clouds, like that, a bit longer,
to hope that I die before those trees do
to ask of the birds, who am I to outlive you?
I wonder how I sit
with feet like these
how I can fall
with wind so strong
how I can speak
with birds so sweet
how I can frown
with grass this green
how I can sleep
with these stars of bliss
and how I can hate
with the Earth like this.
How can I hate with the Earth like this.